An Echo in the Bone by Diana Gabaldon

Snapshot of me reading:

Still in Wyoming, still curled up in bed, munching my way through a stack of library books.

The book:

Diana and I are starting to feel like old pals.  We’ve gotten to the point where I can end her sentences, which is a great thing in a pal, but not so great for an author.

New cliches, plz?

Although who doesn’t love wine, baguettes, and questionable facial hair?

On the bright side, Diana always throws in completely unexpected plot twists, which makes the ride all the more exciting.  Actually, *disclosure*: some of the plot twists may have been more unexpected for me, because I think I accidentally skipped one of the books in the series before reading An Echo in the Bone (where did that baby come from???).   In general, though, it didn’t particularly hurt my understanding of the plot, because *see this post and this post for why every book in this series is practically interchangeable with the others.  6 out of 10, and goodbye to Diana for a while.  It’s been real, it’s been fun, but I don’t think I need any more Scottish time-traveling ridiculous indulgence for a while.  (Please, dear reader, don’t take my silly GIFs too seriously.  Go out and read the first book in the series, Outlander–which is awesomeness in itself–and then try reading the next thirty books in the series in a weekend, and you’ll end up pooping silly GIFs.)


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